Fortune's Magic Farm by Suzanne Selfors (i read book .TXT) 📗

for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then looked deep into Isabelle’s eyes. “Your father told Mr. Supreme all about the Fortunes. And all about Daffodilly, who was homeless and wandering on her own, afraid to return to the farm. Mr. Supreme began to search for her, greedy for the farm’s secrets. He almost caught her a few times but she always managed to escape, even though she was heavy with child. Yes, my dear. With you.”

Isabelle imagined her mother running from Mr. Supreme, down dark alleys and muddy lanes. Running and running until she ended up in the place called Runny Cove.

“That’s why she left me on the doorstep,” Isabelle realized, seeing it all clearly. “She was trying to protect me. She was trying to protect the farm, too. Because Mr. Supreme would have used me to get inside.”

“Exactly.”

Then came the dreaded question. Isabelle took a deep breath. “Where is she now?”

“I found her body just outside the tunnel. I think she knew that she was dying and wanted to see us one last time, but the spell had turned against her and wouldn’t let her back in. It was evident that she had recently given birth, but we didn’t know where to find the baby. I buried her in Tender’s Cemetery.”

“Ten years have passed,” Sage said. “But Supreme’s gyrocopters still search. I can keep patching the cracks and holes but if one more tender breaks the vow…”

Isabelle’s mind raced. Sage and Walnut had brought her to the farm, hoping that she could change Nesbitt’s mind about letting the farm die. That she, being the last tender, would give him hope. But how…

“How did you know where to find me?”

“I knew that a tender, even if she did not know that she was a tender, would influence her environment simply by being alive,” Walnut explained. “We sent Rolo out to cover as much territory as possible. He knew immediately when he saw the cloud bogs.”

“The cloud bogs?”

“Yes, the wetlands that surround Runny Cove. They are not naturally occurring. The plant growing in them is called Cloud Clover, a highly invasive species that turns dry land into mush. While most plants release oxygen into the air, Cloud Clover releases clouds. You see, the only seeds that survived long enough for Henry to sell were Cloud Clover seeds. In an evil attempt to get more people to buy umbrellas, Mr. Supreme planted Cloud Clover in sunny parts of the world.” A sapling shot up from the table where Walnut’s hand rested. “Anyone can grow the clover. It germinates and does quite well on its own. But the Cloud Clover growing in Runny Cove is seven times taller than it should be. When Rolo reported this, we knew that a tender had to be living in that horrid village. Rolo continued his investigation and discovered that there were three ten-year-old children. And then Sage delivered the apples, and, well, here you are.”

Isabelle’s shoulders fell. “I am the reason that it always rains in Runny Cove?”

“It’s not entirely your fault. You didn’t plant the seed. But you are the reason the cloud coverage is thicker than porridge and why the sun can never break through.”

“That’s terrible.”

No one said anything for a long while. The marmot went back to digging. Isabelle could barely believe it. She was the reason for so much of the misery in Runny Cove. The clouds didn’t part because of her!

“What are we going to do about Nesbitt?” Sage asked under his breath.

Walnut frowned. “What’s that? Did you just call me a twit?”

Sage yanked a mushroom from Walnut’s ear. “I said, Nesbitt. What are we going to do about Nesbitt?”

“I shall speak to him again. This time I will demand that he allow Isabelle to stay. This time I’ll…”

“WHY IS SHE STILL HERE?”

Isabelle almost fell off her chair. The booming question ricocheted off the walls and rattled the teapot.

Nesbitt Rhododendrol Fortune stood in the kitchen’s entryway, so tall that he had to stoop to fit through. His wrinkled face blazed as furiously as his orange streaks. Isabelle began to tremble.

“I TOLD HER TO GO!”

Now Nesbitt,” Walnut said calmly, “there’s no reason for all this shouting.”

“I don’t want her here. I never wanted her here. Can’t you see? She’s just like her mother.”

Sage stood. “I’m the one who brought her here so if you’re going to get mad at someone you should get mad at me.”

“I told Sage to bring her,” Walnut defended, also rising from his chair. “This was all my idea.”

“You both disobeyed my orders?” The question hissed slowly from Nesbitt’s mouth, like steam.

Horrible silence filled the room. No one took a breath. Isabelle didn’t budge. She could feel her grandfather’s stare burn right through her. She wanted to crawl under the table and hide. The marmot, however, found a pebble in the potting soil and threw it right at Nesbitt. Bonk!

Stunned, Nesbitt rubbed his forehead.

“I’m s… s… sorry,” Isabelle stuttered. “She likes to throw rocks.”

For a moment, the old man’s expression softened. Would he change his mind? What could she do to convince him that she wasn’t like her mother, that she wasn’t going to hurt the farm?

But his eyes narrowed. “The child leaves tomorrow,” he ordered. “You will take her back to where you found her. If you don’t obey me this time, you can both go with her and never return.” He stomped over to the kitchen table. As his hand flew through the air, everyone flinched. But the hand simply landed on the cast iron soup pot. “I’m hungry,” he murmured, lifting the pot off the table. As he made his exit, he sneered at the marmot. “And that rodent goes too!”

He stomped down the hall and slammed the door marked “N.”

Sage smacked his hand on the table. “Why won’t he listen to us?” He kicked a cupboard door. “Why is he so stubborn?”

“Pride, my dear boy,” Walnut explained. “He may never recover from Daffodilly’s disloyalty.”

“But why did he say I